


Cover Up

by CrookedneighborCrookedheart



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedneighborCrookedheart/pseuds/CrookedneighborCrookedheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles leaves a massive hickey on Lydia's throat. The whole pack finds out about their relationship, which they had previously decided to keep on the down low.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover Up

When her mom offered to help her cover up the bruise from the time Jennifer Blake tried to strangle her, Lydia didn’t take her up on it. It felt important to let the bruise show. She wished she had let her mom help now, if only so that she could effectively cover a bruise herself. 

She stared at the half-concealed hickey under her jaw. Maybe, since it’s underneath people won’t even notice… No, not a chance. That thing was the size of Africa. 

This was never an issue before— she had a strict rule; no marks. But, as always, Stiles Stilinski lives to break rules. Lydia sighed. Recognizing her inability to sufficiently cover the mark, she settled for a scarf, even though it meant changing dresses. She shifted it around her throat until it covered up the spot, and headed to school. 

Lydia was feeling pretty satisfied by lunch time. No one had noticed the mark, and she was even able to keep her cool when Kira asked why she hadn’t answered her phone yesterday. That satisfaction should have been a warning all on it’s own. 

She sat down at the lunch table across from Kira, picking apart her lunch while she filled Kira in on some of the research she and Stiles had accomplished the night before. 

Lydia explained, “So we think it might be these things with Egyptian or Mesopotamian roots called—” 

“Naga,” Stiles finished for her as he slid into the seat next to her. He continued to explain what they had found to Kira, but Lydia stopped listening. Instead, she focused on keeping her breathing and heartbeat steady as Stiles brushed his foot up her leg under the table, and twiddled with his fingers above it. Scott had come into the cafeteria with Stiles and sat down across from her. He would certainly notice the changes in her heartbeat. But sitting here and watching him speak animatedly about all they had discovered, Lydia found that all she could think of was his hand brushing up her calf as he sucked so lovingly and not so gently on her neck, supporting himself over her with elbows pressed into the carpet on her bedroom floor. She glanced at his arms, and noticed that he hadn’t rolled the sleeves of his plaid over-shirt above his elbows. He must still have that rug burn. 

Sitting in the lunch room, thinking about the time last night when Stiles asked if he could leave a mark and the time she was too caught up in him to even want to say no made her regret agreeing to keep their relationship quiet for a little while. 

When they had first gotten together, it was in the wee hours in the morning. Stiles was bleeding on the couch of the Stilinski living room after a close call during a scuffle with Beacon Hill’s most recent supernatural terror. She had patched him up, than sat up with him because the pain was keeping him awake. When Scott went to bed after insistent pushing from both Stiles and Lydia, she rested her back against the couch he was lying on, her head resting against his side and turned to the side and up to look at him as they lost track of time in conversation. She doesn’t remember the exact lead up, but she said something about worrying about him when he got himself hurt like this, and he had leaned down to kiss her. She kissed back. When they pulled away, he asked if she would be alright keeping it under the radar for a while. 

“I’ve been hoping for this for so long,” he had said to her. “I think it would be nice if it were only ours for a little bit.”

Since then, it has been small brushes of skin when they passed in the hall way, vain attempts to seem casual as they scanned the hallways for each other in the morning, and stolen kisses interrupting research sessions. While she understood his desire for discretion, she wished she could have more. Now.

“… and I didn’t even know Lydia knew sanskrit, but she just picked up this book we found and started reading! I swear she will never stop amazing me,” Stiles was just saying. The sound of her name had pulled her out of her reverie, and she noticed that she might have been staring at Stiles for too long. She needed a break.

“I am going to go grab some water,” She said, starting to stand, “anyone else want some?” And that’s when everything started rolling downhill. As Lydia stood up, her beautiful knit scarf caught on a piece of metal under the table. It had only been wound loosely around her neck, so it pulled right off. Just as it fell, Isaac sat down at the table with Malia. He looked up at her, whistling lowly,“Woah, Lydia. What is that? Quite an impressive mark.”

For all her smarts and quick wit and high IQ scores, Lydia could not think of a response. Her hand flew up to her throat to cover the mark, as if hiding it would some how make everyone at the table unsee it. She didn’t dare look down at Stiles.

Lydia noticed Kira biting her lip, trying not to laugh. 

“It’s not funny,” Lydia hissed. 

Part of Kira’s giggle escaped, “It’s a little funny. You look terrified. Come on Lydia, it’s just a hickey, not a death sentence. But you do have to tell us who gave it to you.” 

“Yeah,” Malia added, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us you were hooking up with someone!” 

“Oh my god,” Scott cut in. Lydia was surprised, she didn’t expect any of the boys to try and weigh in on this conversation. “Oh my god,” Scott repeated, his eyes moving back and forth between Stiles and Lydia, “Oh, no way.” A goofy grin split across his face. He turned his head to Stiles, “I told you that you wouldn’t need a ten year plan!” 

Stiles choked on his sip of water. Lydia finally looked over at him, and noticed that he already had the beginnings of a blush reddening his cheeks. “Oh, come on,” she said to him, “you can’t expect to keep a secret when your face turns red as a tomato the minute someone thinks they caught you.” 

“Oh, this is not my fault, and I suppose it’s time to tell them anyway. We’ve had a few weeks to ourselves.” 

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair. They were going to find out eventually. But in what way is this not your fault! You left a hickey purple as a plum on the top of my throat! How was I supposed to cover that up!? It’s April, I couldn’t wear a turtle neck!” 

Stiles was about to respond, but Isaac cut him off. “Wait. Scott’s right?” 

“Of course I’m right,” Scott scoffed, “It’s Stiles, he can’t really expect to hide anything from me. And for the record, I so called it— no ten year plan necessary.” 

Lydia cocked her head at him, “You had a ten year plan?” 

Stiles face lit up like a stop light.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for stydia-fanfics on tumblr. You can find me at avemasterherondale.tumblr.com


End file.
